Word Sorcery
Romantic | Creative | Happy
Married to my best friend and soul mate ♥
My introduction post.
#writing
"To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing, be nothing." --Elbert Hubbard
[ Questions? Comments? ]
(Submitted by wordsorcery)
It’s amazing (and unfortunate at times) that we writers often experience the same issues. Outlines don’t always kill my stories, but when they do… Wait, different meme. XD
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Tag reblogs to this post as: #wwn4The night was cold and the moonless sky lent itself to nearly impenetrable darkness. It was quieter than usual, which made Bram restless. These were the sort of nights that he wished to be anything other than a town guard on night watch; the sort of nights when he didn’t know if he’d make it to the end of his shift.
Every once and awhile the hairs on the back of his neck would stand at attention and his heart would pause, as he strained to listen for even the most minute evidence of an invasion. He knew that he was certainly being watched by the warlocks in the east—they were famous scryers—but how close they were to the town was anyone’s guess. He often imagined they were right behind him, but when he turned around to look, he was always alone.
When the horn sounded from the north tower, he was almost relieved that his suspicions about the night had been correct, but at the same time, a new fear arose, as he wondered what the threat might be. The north tower was almost a mile away from his station, and he was under orders to stay at his assigned position, which meant that he had to completely rely on the messenger scouts to send word about their situation.
As he was adjusting his armor, and readying himself for the unknown, a faint blue glow hovered before him. He took a step back, unaccustomed to seeing the raw magic crackling in the air like a living being. Much to his amazement, the swirling light took shape, and presented itself as a face—one he didn’t recognize—of a young man about his age. There was much urgency and concern in his expression, and he glanced to the side once nervously before speaking.
“Bram, the north tower has fallen. Send word to Lord Drayson, else the entire kingdom may fall. The Arcane Magisters will try to assist, but we can’t make any promises, for we are also under attack.”
Then the face and the magic were gone, having faded out the same way it had suddenly appeared. Bram paused only a moment before setting aside his surprise, and realized that he had to make a decision: Stay and keep guarding his post as ordered, or warn the castle? With little delay, he knew what he must do.
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Tag reblogs to this post as: #wwn3Seth wasn’t completely naive; he liked to think that he was just young and still learning to find his way in this world. Maybe he was just kidding himself, but he never liked to dwell on the details.
He didn’t believe his friends when they told him what they’d seen his girlfriend doing. They’d been exclusively dating for almost two years, and while Rachel was definitely a flirt, she had her limitations, and he trusted her. Mostly.
How could he really believe that they’d seen her kissing another guy? She said she loved him, and people who loved you didn’t do that sort of thing. Maybe his friends were just jealous. Rachel was drop-dead gorgeous and he’d been the recipient so many “how did you get such a hot girlfriend” jokes that he’d grown quite tired of the sentiment. He knew that some of his friends were resentful of the fact that he hadn’t even really had to try to hook up with her. He and Rachel had instantly clicked, and the rest was history.
His phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. It was Rachel.
“Seth, we have to talk.”
His stomach fluttered with nervousness, something he wasn’t accustomed to. Suddenly, he wasn’t looking forward to knowing what she wanted.
Just want to take a moment to point fellow writers to a fun collaborative writing project I started about a week ago. It’s called Writing What’s Next, which allows participants to continue a story where someone else stopped. You can submit a starting paragraph, continue where a starter left off, or continue several posts down the line (depending on how many people participate).
Thus far, Writing What’s Next has a few followers, but only I’m actively participating. I know it would be more fun with more people, so if this sounds like something you’d like (or one of your friends would like), please share this link with them.
Just an FYI - I’m going to be using this blog for writing only. Those of you who may have added me for gaming-only interests may want to stop following, as I will no longer be making gaming posts here. I’ve decided that I want to narrow my interests so that I can be more focused on just writing in this space.
This message will self-destruct in a couple days. ^_^
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Tag reblogs to this post as: #wwn2His thoughts were jumbled and his pulse was racing out of control. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to convince himself that he had not seen—what he thought he had seen—that thing in the mirror.
“It’s just your imagination,” he whispered out loud.
“Adam…” a quiet, whispering voice called to him from the direction of the mirror.
“Not again,” he thought. ”This is not happening.”
The air grew suddenly chilly, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through him. Something cold touched his shoulder, and that was all it took. His eyes flew open and he ran madly toward the stairs.
/end fragment
(Next! Anyone want to continue?)
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Tag reblogs to this post as: #wwn1Three hundred dollars was a lot of money, and money was something that Tracey didn’t have a lot of. Still, as she stood there, peering through the foggy display window in the freezing weather, she couldn’t help but daydream that someday she might be able to afford the object of her desire.
It wasn’t that she needed the dress. She didn’t even have a practical use for it. (How much “real world” use could she get out of a Victorian-era hoop dress, anyway?) No matter how she tried to mentally dismiss her fantasy, the fact remained: when she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself wearing the dress, and just for that moment, Tracey thought she could be truly be beautiful.
/end fragment
(Next! Anyone want to continue?)
As I’ve been using Tumblr for a couple weeks now, I’m starting to think it’s not the best place to focus solely on writing. This place is definitely more picture-oriented, and me being more wordy than picturey, well, I started thinking that maybe I needed to try a different blog site. I’ll still be using Tumblr, but I’m open to other options.
I went over to WordPress and decided to mirror my writing over there. It’s like this site, but without any of the gaming posts, or asking for prompts. I might even end up talking about other writing things, we’ll see. So far, I’m liking how much more user-friendly WordPress is.
If anyone following me has a WordPress, look me up! ^_^
Also, I’m still looking for prompts. I’ve received several, and most of them are quite… odd. Check out my Suggest a Prompt FAQ if you want to know what I’m looking for or shoot me an ask with a prompt. I’m looking for inspiration for my exercises here from YOU! ^_^
Also, Also, I’m looking for writing peers. If you are a writer looking for followers, follow me and I’ll follow you back. I’m definitely looking for people who like to read and give feedback on original fiction. (I know, I ask a lot, but hey, these people do exist — I already know a few!)
I’m down to one last prompt (which is actually more of a writing exercise). So, I’m looking for more prompts!
If you’re not sure what sort of prompt to send, check out my Suggest a Prompt page here, detailing what sort of prompts I use and why. Or, you can just throw caution to the wind and take a chance with whatever’s on your mind by sending something directly to my ask box.
Looking forward to what everyone comes up with… ^_^
avante-gardeian Asks:
wordsorcery Said:
Thanks for the prompt! I wonder if it turned out like you imagined it would…
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Mission As Usual (519 words/Rating: PG-13)
Original Flash Fiction by Word Sorcery
This time, he had aroused suspicion twice and had barely escaped capture the second time. He had to be removed from the field, but he’d accomplished his mission—the information gathered was critical. When they returned back to base, Fan pulled Tarael into the private room, and rumor was that he was going to be demoted to desk duty for yet again, almost exposing the agency, but instead, he emerged with a slight pay increase and some new gadgets from the research department. Something had happened behind closed doors, and even though neither Fan nor Tarael revealed exactly what transpired between the two of them, Misha had a hunch.
Tarael knew a lot of things. He often gathered information that a normal by-the-book operative would never have a chance in hell of gaining access to, because he was willing to take things a step farther than anyone could predict. His unconventional methods made him a good agent, and he often managed to be a step ahead where no one expected him to be, but at the same time, he took a lot of unnecessary risks which made him a guaranteed liability. As a result, it was possible that Tarael had managed to dig up some dirt on Fan—something embarrassing—and if that was the case, his position on the team was rock solid. There wasn’t anything their boss hated more than being made to look like a fool.
After the meeting was over, it was business as usual. Tarael emerged holding an e-clip with their mission data on it, and he simply nodded at her and nodded in the direction of the door. She followed him to the briefing room, and the two of them stayed up late into the night pouring over his discoveries on the widescreen until his uncapped enthusiasm left him completely drained. As usual, she was responsible for making sure he made it back to his dorm safely.
Most of the time, she was equal parts partner and protector, but sometimes it felt like she did more of the latter. Without her, Tarael would probably have been killed a long time ago. He wasn’t particularly good at combat or stealth, but he had a mouth on him that could get him in and out of trouble faster than any high-speed transport she’d ever been on. That, and his damnable smile. It disarmed the coldest of hearts—even hers.
He’s lucky he has me, she thought, as she enabled his room’s security system from the outside. Bastard.
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